'I don't know if I am emotionally strong and can handle everything, or I am a heartless sociopath.'
|| Book 2 in the Byrd Delani Series ||
|| The 100 ||
|| Season 5 - 7 ||
|| John Murphy x OC ||
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Byrd sat on the roof staring up at the sky, her arms enveloping her legs. She'd been told of Abby's plan to save Kane, which had been planted in her mind by Josephine who inhabited Clarke's body. It infuriated her. She groaned, rubbing her eyes as the voices rose in her mind; pressing the butt of her palms into her eyes.
'Hey,' Murphy called.
She looked to him, 'Hey.'
'You ok?'
'No.'
'Talk to me.'
'There's nothing to talk about. It's just the same shit, only a different day.'
He sighed coming to sit behind her, placing his legs either side of her. He pulled her back to lay against him, which she complied to with ease; laying her head against his shoulder.
'Can I show you something?' She whispered.
'Yeh,' He nodded.
Byrd raised her bum to pull her journal out of her waistband, bringing it around to lay in her lap.
'Magpie... You don't have to,' He tightened his grip around her.
'You deserve to see... Especially when Miller's seen most of them,' She shook her head.
She drew in a deep breath before she opened the journal to a random page, tensing at the image before them. It was Murphy, as many of them were, but this one was of his eyes. She traced her fingers over the lines, clenching her jaw at the shadow reflecting in his iris. It was her, she was the darkness.
'This was the first time I killed you in my dreams,' She whispered; 'It was about a year and a half in the bunker.'
'It's beautiful,' He murmured.
'It's haunting.'
She flicked the page to the image of half a face, Lexa's, her eyes painting in her war paint.
'Lexa,' Murphy muttered.
Byrd flicked the page, 'And Linc. And Tav... And me.'
The drawing of herself was darker then the other's, and Murphy knew it was because she saw herself as a monster. He turned the page, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. His eyes flicked over the next drawings he passed, images drawn in her usual graffiti style with others of a softer nature, before they landed on another of him. But, this time, she was with him as they shared a kiss.
'The next night, I dreamt this,' She whispered.
She turned the page to reveal another drawing of them, but in their arms was a bundle of cloth. Murphy stilled as he came to realise what it was, a baby of their own.
